Monday, May 24, 2010

Other tidbits of information, none of them so joyous as that related in the last Percolator post, gleaned from our appointment this morning:

• Did you know Gardasil, the 3-part vaccine that is supposed to protect sexually active young women from cervical cancer is now approved to be administered to young men? I didn’t either. The last I knew, young men don’t come equipped with cervixes. But, in this ‘brave new egalitarian world,’ even sexually transmitted diseases don’t discriminate…so treatment is now ‘equal opportunity’ as well; we’re still not stepping into this line, though.

• We can surmise what we wish, but there is a definite rise in credibility when a medical doctor recounts his own clinical experiences, even when they are …unsavory…such as high school and college-age patients who come in for STD treatment lamenting, “you never told me it would be this bad!”

These communication transactions don’t break down on the sending end. Nope; the messages aren’t received when their content does not correspond to what people want to hear. Come to think of it, I think this happens in other spheres of life, too.

• There followed some graphic descriptions of how these infections can manifest—which seemed bad enough until mention was made of certain body parts needing cauterization, etc….at which point, I will now desist.

• I mentioned that both of my older sons had heard the message loud and clear in their school health classes and had quoted, more than once, the ominous statistic that 25% of American women between the ages of 18 and 25 have or have had an STD infection. Not true, we learned.

“It is now 35%, and that is based on the ones that are reported. This type of thing is usually under-reported.” Nice.

• National Health Board-I haven’t been paying enough attention, being a rather shameless approach-avoidant type, but evidently this new gorgon is part of President Obama’s Health Care program which, sorrowfully, has come to pass. It is always easier to get into a mess than to get out of one, and that is no less true here. In fact, I think only a resiliently salient temperament will maintain that there can be any turning back once the juggernaut launches. Among changes we should expect:

o Online patient records. “Did you know that doctors have been offered an incentive--$40-60K—to have their patient records put online? People don’t know this. But it is true.” Evidently, he was recently at a townhall meeting and mentioned this; constituents were unaware. Then, our district’s federal representative, who was present and who had convened the meeting, corroborated the truth of this. Why would the government want everyone’s patient records online?”

Well, probably for no good reason, but I would guess so they can know everyone’s business.

“It’s because then they are accessible to the National Health Board, who can see how often you’ve been seen and by whom. Then if you’ve been to see a doctor five times, say, they can tell you, ‘no more; you are done.’ Someone over here has seen no one for 5 years…so it all has to be evened out and rationed so that everyone gets the same number of visits” – apparently, details such as who has paid for health care become irrelevant. [Rationing?]

“And doctors will already have received this incentive money.” Which probably buys some “loyalty” to the program, at least in some quarters. And there is more; but, for the moment, I am sufficiently discouraged.

[Andy Rooney voice] Have you ever wondered how sometimes the news you’ve been waiting to hear can creep in so quietly that it barely registers at first?

Maybe it’s a matter of too many kettles whistling on the range at the same time…maybe it’s a function of too much water under the bridge or atrophied attention span…it really doesn’t matter, because answers are answers, even when they don’t hit you over the head.

This was our answer this morning as Ben and I sat in Dr. B’s office: “Well, what should I do with you? You don’t have diabetes now. You see here, your A1C is 5.5 [needs to be 6 or above for DM1 diagnosis]and that means you don’t have diabetes.”

So we’re all done?

“Yes, I don’t think I need to send you to anyone else, because you no longer have diabetes. You had stress diabetes. “

The diabetes part of Ben's journey has run from January 2009 until, officially, today, May 2010. He's had no insulin for 10 months, since July 2009.

When we got home, the kids and I sat in the living room and bowed our heads before the Lord to thank Him, and praise Him with lifted hands, for being Ben’s Healer and our never-changing Rock.

Friday, May 14, 2010

The sun is shining, and today is a better day. I just returned from some pre-graduation stealth trips...as in surreptitiously dropping off absconded items from Ben's room to be arranged in a shadow box by one of his bosses at Perfect Frame...there is more to this reconnaissance mission than one might think...

Then, off to his soon-to-be alma mater to turn in four photographs to be used in the PowerPoint presentation that is flashed up during the commencement ceremony as each graduate crosses the platform to receive the coveted diploma...

These are days of worldwide stress and turmoil, quite a bit of it--it seems to me--unprecedented.

Thus, I was struck by the sense of peace and thankfulness that came over me as I walked the halls of Ben's and Alina's high school. Nowhere is perfect. As with most (if not all) of life down here, educational choices -if they exist at all- are often choices between relative better and worse. It is cliche to mention how very much different today's high school experience is from what Mr. H. and I remember.

But my just-completed trek to the high school office was a reminder that our kids have been privileged to be in a good place; not perfect, but much better than some. There are no policeman present, no postings or policies that are objectionable to our values and principles. Students and staff seem at ease...

Thursday, May 13, 2010

OK, gentle readers...just a mild warning...this has not been a good day for your faithful correspondent...

Worry not, I will spare you from any hideous details or ear-burning rants...but I cannot help put pose this query: What is it with men and PHONEBOOKS????

Twice in one day (that being, today) I have been placed in a disadvangateous position because certain males seem not to be acquainted with the concept of telephone directories. For any one who needs to know, these are annually distributed, carefully compiled lists of various businesses (not to mention residences) and even--gasp--professional offices! and their corresponding phone numbers. Who knew?!?

The paper versions are not exactly high-tech but they remain very effective ways of learning phone numbers, and they are even free! I may need to check with a sociologist about this, but I will go out on a limb and say, to the best of my knowledge, consulting a phonebook...i.e., perusing with your own eyes and letting your very own "fingers do the walking" ... does not in any way diminish a man's virility, masculine prowess or mystique [wait, the mystique thing is a feminine facet...Venus and Mars, or is the other way around?)

ANYway, use of a phonebook is a useful and gender-neutral practice...not like eating quiche or *shudder* asking for directions...

With a bow to the old Midas Muffler television commercials, I say, "Yah PHONEBOOK!!! Use it!!!"

What nationally recognized 'holiday' [as opposed to 'holy day'] carries more potentially positive AND negative emotional payload that this day to honor mothers?

Thank you to my mom, who brought me forth and nurtured me, doing better for me than was done for her, and to my mother-in-law, who reared a wonderful husband for me...

If it is true that the most intense blessings also can carry the sharpest pain [and I'm maintaining there's a strong possibilty of that], than Mother's Day is, indeed, the celebration du jour...

I'm thankful not only for my husband, five children, and family-of-origin heritage, but also for the sisters in Christ who held my hand and whose hands I held this morning; the hugs I received and gave; my husband's handkerchief when the tear wells overflowed and wouldn't stop; the empathy of sister-moms' hurting but hopeful hearts...and especially for the promise of Psalm 138:8..."The LORD will perfect that which concerneth me"...